


The Time Being

by tenrousei_kuroi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-14
Updated: 2014-05-14
Packaged: 2018-01-24 17:29:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1613345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenrousei_kuroi/pseuds/tenrousei_kuroi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas 1973. One by one, Bellatrix sends her angels to their absolution. Rated for imagery/concepts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Time Being

nulla. 

Regulus brings the boxes down from the attic, Bellatrix watches him carefully with dark eyes as he stumbles into the drawing room. He is crumpled slightly under the weight, but insists that he will carry them himself, no one need help him. Bella's eyes sweep up to Sirius, who shakes his head, and merely guides his brother by the shoulders, keeping him from falling.

The two slowly collapse under the boughs of the towering, and yet undecorated pine tree, and they gently fold their legs underneath themselves and begin to hand boxes to Narcissa, who stretches out on her side and sifts through the contents. Bella redirects her gaze to Narcissa. Narcissa who is nearly as small as Regulus, and who opens the boxes carefully with her long, delicate hands. She rolls onto her back and holds a glowing orb of an ornament up by its gleaming metal hook. Her reflection sits on its surface, distorted.

"Aren't these beautiful?" she whispers, and the words are almost tangible as they slip from her glossy mouth.

Regulus sits, immensely proud of himself, and eagerly he tugs a gleaming golden bauble from his brother's hands. He stands up and stretches, wanting to place the ornament up high. Sirius only smiles and gets up too. He wraps his arms tightly around Regulus's waist and boosts him up high enough to deposit the ornament stably onto a sweeping branch. A small fleet of fake frost from the tree is scraped off, and it sprinkles down onto Narcissa's face and hair. She giggles, and so does Sirius, who sits back down with Regulus leaning into his lap.

Bella blinks slowly and tilts her head. She watches the three of them line up ornaments by color and size, arguing over which should go where. It is mostly Regulus who gets his way, but neither Sirius nor Narcissa seems to mind.

Regulus scatters the silky packing paper from the boxes all about the floor beneath the tree because he enjoys the crinkling sound it makes when touched, and Narcissa throws up tinsel such a bright silver that it almost matches her sweater. Sirius smiles lovingly and watches. He reaches out to reposition Narcissa's decorations so when she steps back to admire her work they are perfectly aligned and she smiles proudly. He carefully grabs Regulus's hands and distracts him at just the right moments to stop him from cutting himself on the older, sharper ornaments. Sirius takes care of the boring aspects of the night, as well. He reseals the empty boxes and stacks them neatly in the corner where they are almost unnoticeable. He taps them with his wand anyway to glamour them the color of the ancient wallpaper. Sirius cannot help but want to take care of the other two, but he is not so good at is as Bella. Bella alone is certain he does not have what it takes, and besides, Sirius is worth protecting too. The duty falls to Bella.

Bella twists at her left arm. Bella does not fail in her objectives.

She sits in the old armchair by the buzzing fire, and she shrugs off her outer robes. Outside it is crisp, bitingly cold, and snowing. Inside it is warm and content.

Sirius teases Regulus, snickering at how the youngest Black cannot make up his mind which of the two glassblown greyhounds is shinier and deserves to be on the front of the tree. Regulus pouts for an instant, but then launches himself at his brother. Narcissa whirls around and shrieks. She jumps after them, and the three tumble around on the ground. Bella lifts her legs up into the chair as her sister and her cousins tumble into it.

A shadow appears in the doorway. It is her husband, Rodolphus, who stands there, regal and proud, with one hand on the shoulder of his younger brother, Rabastan. Their faces are identical, nearly to the last minute detail, but Rabastan is so much smaller, and his eyes shine with a curiosity that has long since faded from Rodolphus's emotional repertoire. It leaves Rabastan's eyes clear and light, and shows Rodolphus's as the deep, mournful brown that they are. He sees his cousin and sister-in-law giggle on the floor while Sirius holds them down and tickles them without mercy. He bounces up and down under Rodolphus's hand and can barely refrain from breaking free of him. Propriety and respect for his brother, who is nearly eight years his senior, are all that keep him from dashing off to join the games.

Rodolphus makes brief eye contact with Bella, who smirks at Rabastan's desperation. Then Rodolphus turns away. Facing his brother, he addresses Bella. "Don't forget," he says smoothly. "That Andromeda will be back in a little while. She is still visiting those friends of hers, but she should be back sometime tonight. In time for dinner, I assume. Settle, Rabastan," he shakes his head and pulls Rabastan back to him when the poor kid has had enough and finally starts to run off. "Here," he says softly. He unclasps Rabastan's cloak and tugs off his outer layer of robes while he struggles. "At least let me salvage your nice clothes. There, now go!" And he releases Rabastan, who skitters off to the others, who have finally stopped fighting and are putting up ornaments again. Regulus hands Rabastan what he deems to be the second shiniest silver star for his cousin to put up on the Christmas tree.

Bella has ghosted her way over to her husband. She leans in to kiss the corner of his mouth; they are the same height, although Rodolphus insists that he may still grow more, he is only nineteen. She places one hand softly on his neck, and with her other holds his hand, suddenly mindful of the smooth and simple ring on her finger on her hand on that arm.

Rodolphus does not yet match her in that regard, although he has talked about it. He leaves no doubt in her mind that he believes them to be in this together. What brands her brands him, and time is running low before he goes through with his decision, but Bella will never allow this. Rodolphus is not tough enough. He will be badly hurt and she refuses to let that happen.

"Sorry we started decorating without you guys," Bella whispers gently. "Those three just couldn't wait any longer. I thought for sure Regulus and Narcissa would implode."

He laughs gently, and they sway on the spot slightly, as though dancing. "And Sirius?" he asks.

It is Bella's turn to laugh. "You know he can't tell either of them no, especially Regulus. I think it caused him physical pain to not let them do as they wished."

"What a brave, little lion, can't stand up to two children," Rodolphus comments.

"Mm, yes," says Bella vaguely. She turns back and ushers Rodolphus into the chair by the fire. Then she turns to the magnificent coffee table that sits in front of the couch. From out its largest drawer she withdrawals a soft wooden box; inside, lined with purple velvet, lies a special set of ornaments. Five tiny painted angels, with feathered wings and pure white robes. These are special Christmas ornaments and she will put them up later herself. She sets the box on the table, and she curls up next to Rodolphus. The two of them watch the younger kids mess around. Occasionally they call out advice.

Sirius seems to remember manners at some point during the evening and he hastily reminds Narcissa and Regulus that they need to acknowledge Rodolphus, though the latter seems to be hardly concerned with this momentary breach of etiquette. Narcissa kisses him high on his cheek and giggles when he awkwardly nods to her, muttering, "Good evening, Narcissa." She twirls around and quickly tackles Rabastan, demanding he hand over the tinsel he holds, because tinsel is her area of decorating expertise.

Regulus approaches Rodolphus where he sits and looks sheepish that he forgot such a simple rule of protocol. How extraordinarily furious his parents would be! He almost turns back, but Sirius gives him a small prod in the back and so Regulus throws caution to the winds and leans in to hug Rodolphus tightly about the shoulders. Sirius puts his hand to his mouth and laughs.

"Hello, Regulus," Rodolphus chuckles. There is no one here but family, there are no important, high class citizens to impress, and so he messes with his cousin's hair and kisses him on the forehead.

Regulus turns and launches himself back to Sirius, who lets him cling to his side while he reaches out one hand awkwardly to shake Rodolphus's.

The kids get back to their decorating. Rodolphus watches the three amusedly, and Bella in turn observes all four.

 

i. 

First Bella takes into account her oldest cousin, Sirius Black. He is tall and somewhat dashing for his age, with hair as black as hers and haughty, careless features. His eyes are deep and grey, an unusual color that he alone wears proudly like the mutation it is. His skin is smooth and pale from the sheltered life of London's elite.

He lets his hair grow long, but not too long. If anything it is short for the old fashioned style that has up until recently been a longstanding tradition amongst such aristocrats. It snakes just past his ears and is sinfully soft; Bella knows from all the times she has patted Sirius on the head (when he was just a baby, when he was so proud of himself for flying the first time, when he received his school acceptance letter, etc.). Clips of fringe waver over his eyes now and then. It makes him look secretive.

But Sirius is at his most beautiful when he is laughing. For when he looks sad or upset it is a waste of such a perfectly proportioned human being. If his grey eyes do not sparkle then they are dull and shift from dazzling storm clouds to small, dirty river rocks. When he doesn't smile, his entire face falls and the high cheekbones and straight, Arab nose seem jagged and far too angular.

If Sirius were to have no reason to smile, then he would already be dead inside, and Sirius's main source of joy radiates from the people he loves; namely his baby cousin Narcissa, and very, very much so his little brother Regulus. Bella cannot think of a time she has not seen Sirius with Regulus, they are never apart, and when together Sirius shows an air of extreme patience and caring, the kind that comes with total devotion.

Bella reaches forward and removes a single ornament from her special box. Its painted face neither smiles nor frowns, only exists in that perfect monotony of heaven. It has deep, brown eyes. She twirls it in her hands once or twice.

Even now she can see it; Sirius's indulgence of Regulus's every whim. Regulus need not even speak. He appears thirsty and tired from all the evening's activities, and so without preamble, Sirius has snuck off to the kitchen and returned in a flash with a mug of hot chocolate, exclusively for his Regulus, whom he wraps in an afghan and pulls onto his lap. Regulus yawns and blinks while Narcissa and Rabastan continue to deck the tree. Every few minutes he points to one of them and suggests they change something, before Sirius grabs his hand and wraps it back up warmly in his own.

What would become of Sirius if he lost his precious brother, Bella wonders. It is simple, he would cease to be Sirius and become a broken shell, as good as soulless. And Regulus will be taken away, whether Sirius realizes it now or not, because there is nothing else that can happen. The war will come and it will sweep Regulus away with it, and if Sirius is left physically alive at the end of it he will be dead inside and eternally suffering.

Bella sniffs. This will not happen. How can she allow her young cousin to suffer in such a way? She loves him too much for that.

"Are you going to come help us decorate the tree, Bella?" asks Sirius curiously eyeing the ornament in her hand. Regulus turns in his brother's arms and looks at her excitedly.

"Sure," says Bella. She leans down and kisses Sirius on the temple. Then she looks to Rodolphus. Her very, very precious husband, Rodolphus. "Do me a favor," she asks him. "Outside down the yard a ways there is a small shed, you know?"

Rodolphus nods to her and stands up, assuming he is to fetch something. He reaches for his cloak and scarf.

"Please go and get me the blue star that is out there, so it can go on the top of the tree. It is in a green and red box, and it might be a little difficult to find," she grabs his hand before he leaves and kisses him one last time.

"Of course," Rodolphus sets off into the snow and darkness with his wand lying soundly on the coffee table. He is walking less than twenty feet, after all.

"Oh, the pretty blue star, sissy?" asks Narcissa, who keeps tapping the trunk of the tree to shake it and make more fake frost fall off the needles, so it is almost snowing down on them all. Regulus looks up and catches some right in the face. He sneezes twice and Sirius kisses him better.

"Yes," assures Bella, who is busy finding the perfect location for her first angel ornament. She settles on the highest bough she can reach without magic. Most of the very far upper ones have already been filled by Sirius anyway, upon the command of Regulus, who earlier insisted the green tinsel and the hanging red snowflakes purfle the topmost areas of the Christmas tree.

"Pretty, Bella," comments Narcissa, who sits down on the paper Regulus has previously spread out. "Can we wrap presents soon?"

"Yes, very soon," says Bella. "Actually, Narcissa, you can run grab the bags in the entryway, they're full of all of everyone's gifts, but don't look! Some of them are for you!"

Narcissa dashes off. Regulus, who had been starting to drift off against his brother's chest, wakes back up with a start at the word presents. Sirius sits still and tries to settle Regulus down, hugging him tightly and tickling his sides. Sirius smiles. He radiates. He looks to Regulus with nothing less than adoration. So very much love it is borderline sinful in nature. His face is lit up with all the brightness of New Year's fireworks, and he is happy, the only way he should ever be, should he exist at all.

Narcissa returns with a multitude of sacks.

 

ii. 

While Sirius helps Narcissa sort out piles of gifts to wrap without letting her or Regulus (who tries valiantly to sneak a look) see any of the presents that are to be for them, Bella shifts her attention to Rabastan, the youngest Lestrange, and the brother-in-law she loves so very much. He looks so incredibly like her beloved that it is uncanny. His eyes are soft and hazel, sitting in deep hollows. They seem to constantly twinkle.

Rabastan is little, though not so little as Regulus, he has just over a year on the baby of the family. A genetic nod to the common ancestry of the Lestranges and the Blacks graces him with a facial structure similar to Narcissa's, as well as her long, slender fingers. Those fingers that glide over wrapping ribbon and Christmas name labels. Rabastan tightly pulls silver and gold paper over a small box that Bella knows contains an ornate rune watch to Regulus, compliments of Sirius. He tapes it down and curls the ribbon. Sirius recognizes what has been sealed away and he crawls over to Rabastan. Sirius signs his name on the package and then taps it twice with his wand, making it sparkle and shine, and stand out more than all the others.

"This is for you, Regulus," says Rabastan waving the gift. "I know what it is, and you don't! Oh, you're going to love it so much, though."

Sirius has to wrap an arm around Regulus's waist and restrain him as he tries vainly to snatch the present from Rabastan. "No," Sirius laughs. "Wait until tonight. Regulus if you don't behave for me, I will make you wait until New Year's," he teases, but Regulus takes his threat seriously and sits back, looking at Sirius with amazed eyes.

"Really?" he asks sadly.

"Yep," Sirius kisses Regulus while Rabastan nods frantically.

Bella loves the thought of them all being happy, but she alone knows that Regulus does not really need another watch, does he?

Narcissa is at Bella's side before she knows it, and her sweet sister takes her hand and tugs, insisting Bella help them decorate more. "The tree's not done, the tree's not done."

So Bella picks up another ornament and allows Narcissa to lead her. The angel in her hand has fair hair and steely, determined eyes. It is graceful and slender, like the previous, but its wings have not faded so much from the years of storage, and are therefore more elegant.

"Help us wrap presents, too, Bella," says Rabastan. Bella pauses as she is swept past him. She kneels down to run her free hand through his hair. It is smooth, bronze, and lightly curly. Soft, though not so soft as Sirius's. It reminds Bella of a shepherd dog, fluffy but durable. If only her precious angel of a baby brother were so strong as a herding dog.

And it is a younger brother that Bella has always wanted. Her sisters she adores, but Regulus has always been what she envied Sirius. She has constantly longed for a beautiful little boy to protect. Not a child of her own, no, but a younger sibling. Marriage has gained her this child, this boy who needs to be kept safe from political upheaval, and she will succeed.

"Anything you want, honey, Merry Christmas," Bella slings an arm around his shoulders and kisses him behind the ear. Rabastan giggles and tries to lean away from her. "Bella?" he asks a moment later. "What was that noise?"

He tries to sound nonchalant, but fails dismally. "Don't be scared of the storm," Bella whispers. "It's just the wind, it knocks the branches of the trees against the windows and the walls." Poor Rabastan, frightened of the weather, Bella smiles indulgently and tries to put his fears to rest.

Narcissa calls for Rabastan to hold down a tree branch while she ladens it with materials. It is not a request but a command. Rabastan obeys immediately.

And Bella ponders quietly how Rabastan is a little sheep. Adorable, yes, but a sheep nonetheless. He will follow his brother into blackness, into evil and death. He, like Regulus, does not know life without the constant company and approval of his older brother, but it manifests in a different way. Regulus has never wanted to be like Sirius, out of respect for him and his individuality, it seems, and knowing his limits. Yet Rabastan is different, he will copy his brother's actions, dress, movements, anything. Anything and everything. He will brand himself a Separatist like Bella and Rodolphus; his nature will not allow him to do otherwise.

But Bella makes sure that Rodolphus does not pledge his allegiance, so it obviously follows that Rabastan will not either, correct? but these are thoughts that Bella literally cannot entertain, and so all must be done to stop Rabastan from blindly following his brother into oblivion, like she knows he will.

Without her help, she realizes sadly, he does not stand a chance. She will protect him, though, he will not be used for wicked, political maneuvers, he will not.

Narcissa has approached her sister again. She nuzzles her head into Bella's shirt. "You're not being very helpful, Bella," she chides. "You've hardly done anything at all, what if I take back your present?"

Bella laughs softly and apologizes. Narcissa's hand blindly reaches for her own, and they both grasp the angel. Bella kisses Narcissa's gorgeous hair. It is light as the sun and fairer than money gold. It tickles Bella's lips and nose.

She slips one hand to the waist of her sister and murmurs, "Do me a favor, my little one. Please go and see what is taking my beloved so very long? He has no doubt gotten turned around in the shed, and may need your sharp, young eyes to see his way to that last box we need."

"Yes," calls Regulus from where he now crouches beneath the tree. Sirius lies on his stomach in front of him, and one hand reaches up to cup his brother's face. Rabastan is absent-mindedly tearing extra wrapping paper into little multi-colored squares that he lets fly into the air. "We can't finish until we have the star for the tree!"

Narcissa squirms excitedly from Bella's grasp. Hair loose and wild, she dashes outside into the shaken snowglobe of a front yard.

Bella stretches out her arm, and the ornament she holds lands softly upon a slender bough. Somewhere beneath her, Regulus and Rabastan ask to be told a story. Sirius, probably smiling still, agrees. When Bella steps back and turns to look at them, the two younger boys are curled up next to Sirius, who with an arm firmly around either's waist and his head leaning softly on his brother's, begins to recite Seneca.

Several of the papers at Bella's feet crinkle lightly, and she too sits down, intrigued by Sirius's words.

 

iii. 

Bella stations herself on the floor across from Regulus, and while Sirius speaks in swooping, elegant words, she examines her youngest cousin in detail.

Regulus is to Sirius as Rabastan is to Rodolphus. He is a smaller, near-mirror image of his older brother. Regulus shares Sirius's dark, stormy eyes and feather black hair. His nose is perfect and straight, his eyebrows sleek and arched. Although where Sirius has long, sinewy muscle, Regulus is a little softer. He has just recently come out of his baby fat, and is only starting to mold himself to match Sirius's body shape.

Regulus blinks far too often, much as a cat constantly exposed to too much light. His eyelids flutter open and closed with nearly every word Sirius draws. And as Sirius paints a landscape of political satire and ancient philosophy, Regulus drinks in his every word. Less out of admiration for what is being said, and more for the pure enjoyment that Sirius is speaking for him. He could have been listing off a restaurant's dessert menu and Regulus would still focus all his attention on his brother.

This is some of what is most worrisome about Sirius's Regulus, Bella thinks. She leans her chin in her hand, her elbow on her knee. Regulus puts his all into this one person, a gesture he believes is reciprocated, but he doesn't know about Sirius's school friends. He's heard their names, perhaps, but he doesn't understand just how intimate the four of them are. Bella wonders what will happen to Regulus when he goes to school and finds his brother has other people to dote on.

Regulus has never seen Sirius in such a setting, she realizes grimly. He has never been around Sirius and his peers. Sirius will not want to hug him, Bella thinks. When Regulus is at school too, Sirius will not have time for him so much. There will be no more kisses, or fastening Regulus's jacket for him, or reading to him aloud, and certainly no sleeping curled up together. And at first, Regulus will not understand, he will think he has lost Sirius's love somehow, and it will wreck him. Then later, when his mind catches up with Sirius's, he will understand where his brother was coming from, but it will be too late; the animosity will be there by then, and it cannot be undone.

Sirius finishes his recitation, and both Regulus and Rabastan want more. "Greedy children," he chides them lightly. Before they can guilt him into continuing, he reminds them of the presents that are to be organized into piles for each recipient, and the few remaining decorations that need to be placed before that final star can grace the highest bough.

Rabastan follows Sirius's orders almost immediately, and busies himself reading package labels. Regulus refuses to comply, and Bella wonders why he is being difficult until his behavior forces Sirius to grab hold of him and, hugging him tightly, position him near to Rabastan. When Sirius sets his brother down, Regulus keeps ahold of his arm, refusing to break the contact; it is the touch that he wants.

Bella unfolds her legs and stands up. She positions herself in the corner of the room near the empty, disillusioned boxes and continues to observe her happy family. The piles of gifts grow and grow; Regulus's is so very high (Sirius insists on buying him everything) and soon Regulus and Rabastan are stacking the gifts into towers and castles. Sirius helps them.

All the while Regulus positively glows. His hair literally sparkles from all the fake frost from the tree that now adorns it. From what noble pantheon has he descended to Earth? she wonders.

For a while she simply closes her eyes, content to bask in all the familiarity and peacefulness of it all.

When she opens her eyes minutes later the scene before her is altered slightly. The three boys are no longer together. She scans the room for them.

Regulus has wandered over to the coffee table and is closely examining one of the three remaining angel ornaments. He carefully prods its lifeless face, smudges his fingertips over its twinkling eyes and sturdy, painted hair. Bella stares at him as he focuses intently on the ornaments, transfixed. For a second he glances at one of the other two ornaments and shivers a little. Rabastan kneels next to his cousin, and leans closely in to feel an angel's wing.

Bella takes the ornament from Regulus's hand, and he starts. Sheepishly he puts his hands in his lap and looks down. Now that her possession is safe in her grasp, Bella is no longer upset, but Sirius is not so easily swayed. Again Bella marvels at how loyal Regulus is to his brother. Sirius need only firmly grasp Regulus's chin and give him that look before Regulus seems extremely ashamed of his minor misdemeanor. A legitimate smack from Sirius would bring Regulus to tears and subdue him for hours.

Years of training and good breeding are what make Regulus so obedient. He never points out that Rabastan is as much at fault as he is, yet receives no reprimand.

Bella polishes the ornament with her sleeve. No damage has been done, they were only curious. Yet curiosity is dangerous these days, and will lead her cousin and brother into a lot of trouble. She wonders what are big sisters/cousins for if not to keep those they love safe from incident?

Sirius cannot stay stern with Regulus for long. It's been seconds and Regulus's remorseful look has already melted Sirius's resolve. With a sigh he has given in and is snuggling Regulus up close to his chest. He still tries valiantly to remain firm with his words. "What am I going to do with you, Trouble?" he asks. "Can't leave you alone for two seconds, can I? What have you got to say?"

Regulus shrugs shyly. He squirms out of Sirius's grip and slides over to Rabastan, giggling.

"Come on, Sirius," says Rabastan, shaking Regulus by the shoulders. "You're not really mad at him!"

The last of Sirius's pretend anger evaporates and he tackles his brother out of Rabastan's grip in slow motion. "Yes," he lies. "I am going to trade him in for a better brother, one who won't cause me so much grief!"

"No," shrieks Regulus, trying to wriggle out from under Sirius, but failing.

"Yes," Sirius insists. He curls up on the floor with his brother. Papers and frost from the tree have been displaced by the minor play-scuffle. They rain slowly down on everyone in the room. "I'm going to sell you to the circus," Sirius whispers to Regulus. "They'll want a little freak like you. And I'll use the money to buy myself a good little brother. Or maybe a new racing broom."

"Sirius!" Regulus cries, indignant. He spits wrapping paper out of his mouth. "You can't do that!"

"You're right," Sirius admits. "You wouldn't fetch enough money."

Regulus pouts.

"You two," says Bella, who gets up and meanders to the closet in the hallway. She sifts through it. "Play nicely, rascals."

Sirius rolls onto his back. He lays Regulus on his chest and holds him. "Don't pout, Trouble. You're stuck with me forever; I'd never get rid of you."

"Sirius?" Regulus mumbles into his brother's shoulder. "Make the wind stop, I don't like the noises the trees make when they scratch the house."

"Why does it frighten you so much?" asks Sirius sweetly.

"Because it sounds like screaming. Make the wind stop."

"I'll get right on that," Sirius promises.

It is good that Regulus has Sirius to take care of him, Bella realizes as she returns to the room, a jacket draped over one arm, because Regulus has always had issues with abandonment. Sirius does nothing but joke with him, but the very idea that he might one day really leave terrifies Regulus, who has enough self-esteem issues without being abandoned by his idol.

Yet Bella worries on this count as well. Sirius will never leave his brother, right? but he has a strong sociopolitical standpoint as well. He will one day be driven to choose between his duties as an older brother and his obligation to his side of the war. The choice is coming up fast and if Sirius leaves Regulus, even if he insists he is not truly leaving him, no matter if he is positive that he can have both worlds, Regulus will see it as a betrayal. More or less, he'll die if/when Sirius leaves him behind. He'll destroy himself, bitter and sad.

Or he would, if Bella were not there to keep everything in line, to keep everything perfect and happy like it needs to be. Everything frozen, right here and now.

Bella smiles and steps past Sirius and Regulus, who are now still and comfortable on the floor. Regulus is nearly asleep, curled up against his brother's side and chest. Sirius runs his fingers through Regulus's raven hair, whispering sweet-nothings.

"Rabastan, sweetie," says Bella ever so quietly, so as not to disturb the snuggling brothers. "Narcissa is out helping your brother and she's such a blonde, she forgot her jacket. Would you mind bringing it out to her?" she hands her brother-in-law Narcissa's fox lined jacket. The fur is fake, of course; Narcissa would throw such a fit if she thought a real animal had been killed to feed fashion hungry eyes.

"Okay," says Rabastan easily. He grabs his cloak that his brother had draped across the back of a chair earlier, and darts out to stop Narcissa from freezing to death on her mission to collect that bright blue star.

Bella thinks the tree is nearly done. Careful not to step on any presents, Bella slides the angel Regulus had grabbed earlier onto a branch a little below eyes level. It sways gently, then is still.

Regulus and Sirius fall asleep together on the carpet.

 

iv. 

While the two brothers snuggle and dream, Bella's thoughts turn inward to herself. What is she? Bella is Rodolphus's wife, Narcissa's eldest sister, Andromeda's confident, secondary heir to one fortune, married into another, etc. etc. is there anything else?

Bella sighs as she takes in the mess the children have made. Paper scattered everywhere, frost debunked from the tree embedded deeply into the carpet, furniture shifted, ornaments scattered about. She makes no move to clean any of it.

Bella is Rabastan's protection, Sirius's role model, who is missing? Regulus. What is Bella to Regulus? She thinks this over, pressing the palms of her hands deep into her eye sockets, rubbing, twisting. She looks up. Regulus fidgets a bit in his sleep, then resettles in Sirius's arms. Sirius breaths slowly and contentedly, they can stay like this for hours, smiling.

Bella narrows her eyes. How can they be so calm, how can they feel so safe? Don't they realize the devastation that is coming? The complete destruction of their world is rolling in with the winds, and they curl up, totally unaware. Clueless.

Bella sighs. It is tragic, she thinks, but maybe for the best. Let them remain ignorant, and she will keep the monsters at bay. Nothing will be allowed to touch her family.

Nervous, Bella pulls at her hair. She tears her fingers through it, her hands unsteady, attempting to mirror Rodolphus's gentle ministrations. Rodolphus has always complimented her hair; long and black and sleek, but not so nice as Sirius's, no never as nice as Sirius's.

"Why must you turn the conversation to Sirius, Bella?" Rodolphus would always ask, laughing. "Now of all times?"

"Do you intend to keep our brother safe?" she would always inquire. It seemed random, but the response would never waver.

A laugh, then, "Safe from what?"

Incompetent, incompetent, untrustworthy, undeserving of the task.

Bella's eyes water in pain as she rubs them harder. It's a lot to ask of one person, to manage so many fates, almost too much, but she can handle it. She blinks hard, blinks shaking, black eyes. Eyes dark and unlike any one else's in the family, but they lie settled beneath sleek eyebrows, framed by sweeping cheekbones and a jaw curved just so, just so like her sister's, Andromeda. Skin a pale ivory, two small freckles beneath one ear, slightly crooked teeth but you'd never notice, not unless you looked so closely that—Bella puts a hand to her mouth and several tears from irritation/sadness track their way down her face.

Sirius stirs a bit. Regulus has been leaning on his bicep, numbing half his arm. When he wakes up, he looks around blurrily, and notices Bella sitting stoic as ever on her knees behind the coffee table, arms crossed and chin on her wrists.

"When're we going to have dinner, Bella?" he slurs, still waking up. Gently as he can, he tries to move Regulus off his arm without waking him. He fails and Regulus sits up, yawning.

"Later," Bella whispers. "Soon, I promise. Are you terribly hungry?"

It does not matter if Sirius is or not, he looks to Regulus and nudges him in the side. "Are you starving, Reggie?"

He nods, and leans heavily into Sirius. "But I can wait," he says. "We need to finish decorating and put the star on the tree first, anyway, right?"

"Yes," Sirius agrees. He kisses the top of Regulus's head. "We should start on our Christmas cards first also. Come on."

They join Bella at the small table, kneeling as she does, and Sirius hands Regulus a pen, guides him through what to write to Aunt Druella, to Uncle Alphard, to Mother and Father…

Bella remembers sending cards when she was younger as well. She doesn't anymore, she's nineteen and it's not cute anymore, no longer novel. More sadness settles in her chest. Her whole life spent so preoccupied with etiquette that love, understanding and communication with those she cares for the most has been jeopardized. So many years spent focusing on her own image in society and her family's pride, not so much as a second thought to others.

But that changes now, this very night, and it is a long time coming. The knowledge makes Bella smile, and a new feeling emerges alongside the sadness—never replacing it, the past cannot be undone—and it fills her with pride. Pride of her own, unattached to names or bloodlines. Pride in her own actions. Tonight, she rebels. Nothing has ever made her feel so powerful, so important as to know what she is doing this holiday. Marrying Rodolphus to tie her family once again to the Lestranges cannot make her feel so accomplished, joining the ranks does not make her as proud…This she does not because of what others will say, but because it is right.

"I think I misspelled 'convivial'," Regulus voice sounds matter-of-factly.

"It's all right," says Sirius, leaning over Regulus's shoulder to see his work. "They'll indulge you."

"They'll think it's cute," says Bella, her voice cracking a little as her throat sticks. Outside a tree batters desperately against a first floor window.

"Oh," Regulus seals his letter carefully. "Okay, good."

"I'll address these and leave them on the counter to be sent off in the morning," says Sirius. "I'll be right back." He leaves the room. Immediately Regulus slouches.

"Don't pout," says Bella. "She slides closer to him and places one hand softly on his shoulder. "When Sirius gets back we will finally finish the tree. It still needs candles."

Regulus nods, his eyes downcast. Bella plays gently with the link bracelet he wears on his right wrist (Regulus is left handed), tungsten carbide black ceramic. Regulus leans away. "Sirius made that for me," he mumbles.

A slight feeling of guilt crosses Bella's mind and she vows to not make the same mistake she made the last few times. Urgently, she says, "Sirius does a lot of nice things for you."

Regulus is still.

"You should be more grateful, now, when was the last time you told him you loved him?"

"Sirius knows," says Regulus loudly.

"Shh, yes, but I'm sure he'd love to be reminded. He tells you every day, all the time, I think you should say it."

Regulus leans away from his cousin, looking mildly frightened. "I—I will?" he stutters.

"Now, tell me now there is a way to avoid this," Bella would ask for the thousandth time.

The answer she receives would always be soft, strained. "No, Bella. War is coming. You've joined, I will join, and I know what our families think of overindulgence, but I'm telling you I love you every day, just in case. I said it yesterday and I'll tell you again now."

"Now, tell him now," Bella hisses.

"Tell me what?" asks Sirius, returning. Regulus struggles to stand up. Tripping slightly, he steadies himself and dashes to Sirius so fast he nearly knocks him over.

"I love you," he says into Sirius's shirt. He holds to him tightly, shaking. Sirius stares at Bella harshly, but Bella looks only relieved.

"Again," she says.

"I love you," Regulus intones sincerely, he looks up at Sirius and reaches his arms around his neck, wanting to be picked up.

Confused and concerned, Sirius leans down slightly to lift up his brother. "Shush, honey, calm down," he whispers into Regulus's neck.

Some time passes before Regulus is no longer frantic. Sirius sets him down in the large armchair and kisses his temple. Regulus's eyes close and Sirius covers him with the blanket draped over the back of another chair.

Sirius feels extremely wary about leaving his brother again, but Bella reminds him he needs to send an owl to Mother and Father, to tell them that he and Regulus will be very late tonight because they have not even started dinner yet. He dashes off. Just for a minute, he will be back soon, really soon.

"I didn't think I'd love you," Bella would say. "Don't hate me for saying it, but I thought I'd live my life wanting to escape from you but never daring to. Quietly longing for some life more exciting but never daring to voice so out loud, what would it accomplish?"

"I felt the same way, to a degree," he would say, smiling. "But look how it turned out. You are perfect. The odds are astronomical, but I've been forced to marry my soul mate."

"Imagine," she would always punch him then, lightly on the shoulder, smiling. "We're happy. Take that, Mom and Dad."

"Maybe they knew what they were doing after all," he would muse. "Sometimes you really can do what's best for someone. They might not realize it, but if you care enough for someone, sometimes it's okay to force them to do what's in their best interest. If you know what you are doing…"

Sirius dashes back into the drawing room, panting a little. A single bough on the tree bounces up and down…up and down, newly weighted, and Regulus is gone.

 

v. 

Bella can think of no symbol more important to the Christmas season as it now exists than the Christmas Tree. Regardless of traditions passed, these days it is the symbol. The holiday is not complete without the perfect tree; live but cut down, bedazzled, and tamed.

And this tree is so close, so very close.

"Bella," Sirius shakes. "Where is my Reg—where is Regulus?"

Bella approaches Sirius. He shrinks back a half a step. "Relax," she says, smiling kindly. "He'll be right back, he's just stepped outside—"

"Outside?" demands Sirius. "Why—where? Does he have his coat?"

"Yes, yes, he's fine," Bella insists. "I would not send Regulus outside in only his shirt, not in this snow."

"Bella, it's nearly storming outside."

Bella grabs Sirius's forearm. "Regulus has only gone a few yards beyond the front door to tell everyone that we'll be starting dinner soon." She smiled, pulling Sirius with her to the dining room. Through the archway the tree and part of the drawing room are still visible. "So they need to hurry up."

"Sod the star," Sirius grumbles. "You shouldn't have sent him outside alone."

"He's not alone," Bella's eyes flash briefly, but soon she calms down. "He's with the others. Now let's set the table for everyone, see if you can find that orange-tinted glass Regulus always insists on using when he visits here."

Skeptical, Sirius rummages through a dishes cabinet, clinking the china without much care for its wellbeing.

They set gleaming dishes on the table, and Bella lights the chandelier ablaze with her wand. It glows softly, reflects off the edges of the silverware. She smiles. Everything is ready. When the dinner bell is rung, the plates will fill with food prepared by the house elves earlier in the evening, the glasses will fill with wine for the adults and for Sirius. Rodolphus will indulge Rabastan, of course, and sneak him small amounts as Bella will do for Narcissa (but none for Regulus, Sirius will not allow it. Regulus will look sad but agree, and Sirius will be extra nice to him for the rest of the night to make up for his exclusion).

Minutes pass in tense silence between Bella and Sirius, who can't sit still, can't focus, twitches and fidgets. In her mind Bella counts down, [Ten, nine, eight…]

The very house itself seems to shudder. Sirius's magic is agitated, and the air in the drawing room, to where he and Bella have returned, crackles ominously.

While her in-laws graced the room, Rodolphus would answer the question with a glare, unyielding and harsh, leaving Rabastan to cower, and become silent. When the room emptied but for Bella, himself, and Rabastan, he would change drastically. He would grab Rabastan before he could storm away, hug him close, bring him to the couch, set him down, sit by him with an arm around his shoulders.

"Sorry," he would say. "Family complicates things, but they're gone now, and don't listen to them. I still love you. I'm not moving far away, Rabastan, just into the mainland estate with your new sister. Come and visit as often as you like, I want you to, and stay for as long as you can."

"Dad says I'm not to bother you," Rabastan would never cry exactly, only his voice would waver, his head would hang.

"Ignore what he says, I'll think of a good excuse or two, and have you over all the time, won't I Bella?"

And Bella would nod, always nod and never speak, because Rabastan didn't want to talk to her, he wanted to talk to his big brother. She knew this. Bella would observe the change in Rodolphus's demeanor, and smile, thrilled that he trusted her enough to let her see him this way.

[Seven, six, five, four…]

Sirius paces.

"You don't ignore Dad when he is speaking."

"No, and you shouldn't either, I don't want you hurt, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't look for ways around his and Mom's ridiculous rules. We'll still spend time together, so much you'll get sick of me. I can't have you thinking you've been replaced, can I?"

Rabastan would hiccup and glance shyly at Bella.

She would try to smile in a reassuring way, convince him he would not lose a brother, but gain a sister instead.

[Three…two…]

Bella coaxes Sirius into helping her fasten the candles to the tree, lighting each one as they go. All the while, Sirius trembles with frustration. Bella prepares to set the final ornament on the tree.

"Why don't you ever stand up to Dad for me to his face?"

Rodolphus would look pained, it always hurt him to admit his shortcomings.

"It's not prudent to be disrespectful to certain people."

Bella would nod grimly, but already somewhere, deep in her mind a frustration at her lack of meaningful actions was growing. Rodolphus would always be beaten, controlled, but she was strong. When would she break free? It must only be a matter of time.

[…one…]

"Bella, it's been forever!" Sirius screams. He looks ready to fight, wired and shaking. His eyes glint like arrows, his hands clench at his sides.

Bella does not respond to him. Her face is cold, impassive, but Sirius surely knows deep down that she cares for him so very, very much.

A deadened branch from a tree strikes the siding of the house, startling the two of them. The branch, they tell themselves, is sliding up the side of the house a ways, making that scratching noise, screeching and clawing until the wind breaks it free and the sounds stop (it was a tree branch).

Bella blinks and in the time it takes her to do so, Sirius is storming for the door.

She does not call after him but still he screams his reasoning back at her as though she has.

"It's freezing, it…Bella he can't be alone. I am going to go and get him!" A stray tear slithers down his face and he continues to shout. "I will not leave him alone, I love him!"

Better it be like this, Bella notes, better it be like this and Sirius ends now, vehemently declaring his devotion to his brother. Best he live with what is truly in his heart, untouched by the outside world, unswayed and unaltered by the forces of politics, James Potter, and his parents.

Sirius slams the door behind him, and runs headstrong into the grey mess outside. With his real star missing, he has no intention of searching for any fake ones.

 

vi. 

There is no warning, but Bella is unsurprised when the fireplace roars briefly to life in the other room, and several wisps of green smoke find their way down the hall and into the drawing room. Andromeda has finally arrived. Better a little late than never coming at all.

"Has something gone wrong?" she asks. Sweet, baby sister Andromeda holds her wand limply at her side. There is a confused look on her face and an anguished tug at Bella's heart. Darling Andromeda with her heart-shaped face and her soft brown hair; her eyes are wide and moist, they sparkle. No, she cannot cry, she cannot be allowed to suffer, either. She is little, she is perfect, she is a baby. Baby sister cannot be taken by the war. "Where has everyone gone? Should I go out and look for them, Bella? Are they outside?

"Bella?"

She stares up at her sister, at Andromeda who stands poised casually in the doorway, and Bella is kneeling on the floor beneath the tree, Christmas tree. The boughs venture out to scratch her. A sense of urgency, there is such a need for urgency. She must do something fast, but Bellatrix looks down to her shaking hands and sees that she has long since run out of angels.


End file.
